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 John F. Kennedy’s
1957 Algeria Speech
 John F. Kennedy’s
1957 Algeria Speech
The Politics of Anticolonialism
in the Cold War Era

Gregory D. Cleva

LEXINGTON BOOKS
Lanham • Boulder • New York • London
Published by Lexington Books
An imprint of The Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc.
4501 Forbes Boulevard, Suite 200, Lanham, Maryland 20706
www.rowman.com
86-90 Paul Street, London EC2A 4NE
Copyright © 2022 by The Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any elec-
tronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote passages
in a review.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Information Available

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Cleva, Gregory D., 1947- author.
Title: John F. Kennedy's 1957 Algeria speech : the politics of
anticolonialism in the Cold War era / Gregory D. Cleva.
Description: Lanham : Lexington Books, [2022] | Includes bibliographical
references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2022001925 (print) | LCCN 2022001926 (ebook) | ISBN
9781666901306 (cloth) | ISBN 9781666901313 (epub)
Subjects: LCSH: Kennedy, John F. (John Fitzgerald), 1917-1963. |
Decolonization--Algeria--History--20th century. | Cold War. | Speeches,
addresses, etc., American--History and criticism. | United
States--Foreign relations--1953-1961. | Algeria--History--Revolution,
1954-1962. | France--Colonies--Africa--History--20th century. | United
States--Foreign relations--France. | France--Foreign relations--United
States.
Classification: LCC E842.1 .C54 2022 (print) | LCC E842.1 (ebook) | DDC
973.922092--dc23/eng/20220211
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022001925
LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2022001926

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American
National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library
Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.
 This book is dedicated to my daughter, Elise,
and to the memory of my father, Gregory Cleva, and my mother, Rose Cleva.
 Contents

Acknowledgments ix

Introduction 1
Chapter 1: The Speech: Background and Preparation 19
Chapter 2: The Politics and Ideals of Kennedy’s Algeria Speech 65
Chapter 3: What Kennedy Said 89
Chapter 4: Aftermath: The Controversy in Washington and Paris 137
Chapter 5: Nationalism and French Colonialism in North Africa 173
Chapter 6: The Need to Change American Foreign Policy toward
North Africa 213
Chapter 7: Kennedy’s Algeria Speech: An Assessment 233

Appendix 247
Bibliography 249
Index 263
About the Author 273

vii
 Acknowledgments

I wish to acknowledge the assistance of various associates at the follow-

ing institutions: the Library of Congress in Washington, DC; the National
Archives in Washington, DC and College Park, Maryland; the John F.
Kennedy Presidential Library in Boston, Massachusetts; the Seeley G. Mudd
Library at Princeton University, Princeton, New Jersey; and the Special
Collections section of the Sheridan Libraries, Johns Hopkins University,
Baltimore, Maryland. I also want to recognize the editorial support and assis-
tance provided by my publisher Lexington Books, especially Joseph Perry
and his staff members, Carter Moran and Sara Noakes. Many thanks go to
my wife Sandra who edited the manuscript with great care and patience. I
wish to thank James Townsend, a former deputy assistant secretary of defense
for European and NATO policy and policy expert at NATO and the Atlantic
Council, for a major kindness rendered several years ago from which this
manuscript benefited incalculably. Also, I want to express my gratitude to
Professor Robert E. Williams of Pepperdine University who was wonderfully
gracious in sharing memories of his student days at the School of Advanced
International Studies at the Johns Hopkins University in Washington, DC.
I wish to thank Dr. Hanna Holborn Gray, professor emeritus and former
president of the University of Chicago, for a very informative discussion
on a matter related to this book. Finally, I owe a great debt to Dr. Ronald
Harmon and his wife Shirley of Washington, DC, who made researching
and writing this book possible. I deeply appreciate the generosity of each of
these individuals, but acknowledge that any shortcomings in this work are my
responsibility alone.

ix
 Introduction

KENNEDY’S ALGERIA SPEECH AS HISTORY

The American historian Robert Dallek begins his 2003 biography of John F.
Kennedy, An Unfinished Life, by asking “why another Kennedy book?”1 The
answer Dallek gave was that his book filled a void by using newly released
documents that provided important details of Kennedy’s life heretofore
unknown. Obviously, almost twenty years later, the same question can be
asked about this book. The answer again is that it fills a void by addressing
for the first time, in any substantial way, the details of Kennedy’s Algeria
speech—a major foreign policy address that then-Senator Kennedy delivered
on July 2, 1957 in the US Senate calling for an “independent personality”2
for the Algerian nation. Almost universally, policymakers in the United States
and France interpreted Kennedy’s phrase independent personality to mean
that he was really calling for an independent Algeria—a sovereign nation
freed from French colonial rule that had lasted more than a century.
This speech has been mentioned countless times in articles and books about
Kennedy and his approach to foreign policy, but rarely has the substance of
his remarks or their background been discussed in any extended manner.3 Nor
has serious consideration been given to the speech’s significance to American
diplomatic history—a matter of importance to anyone (from general readers
to scholars) interested in American foreign policy toward colonialism in the
post-World War II era (an era in which the United States responded guard-
edly to the challenges of world leadership). While this was not a speech that
changed existing policies, it marked an event that added significantly to the
narrative of America’s repeated attempts to balance the powerful forces of
nationalism in Africa and Asia with the moribund remnants of the European
colonialism of its NATO allies.
To the extent contemporary authors have dealt with Kennedy’s Algeria
speech, they have examined it primarily in the context of domestic politics.
Kennedy was a leading candidate for the 1960 Democratic presidential

1
2 Introduction

nomination, and discussing such issues as Algeria would enhance his stature
by contributing to his foreign policy credentials. Consider the remarks of
Alistair Cooke, the British-American journalist, who dismissed Kennedy’s
speech cynically in the Manchester Guardian Weekly (July 1957), stating that
Kennedy had only one goal in mind, that of “pitching [himself] into center
stage.”4 This view is regrettable.
Undoubtedly, Kennedy was seeking issues to enhance his position as a
presidential challenger. Yet the sole focus on domestic politics overlooks
Kennedy’s longstanding anticolonial views—opinions he had expressed on
multiple occasions beginning in 1947, his first year in the US Congress. (A
select list of Kennedy’s anticolonial statements is contained in the Appendix.)
This preoccupation with Kennedy’s political motives also fails to acknowl-
edge that, considering his other anticolonial speeches, the Algeria speech
represented the most complete and compelling expression of his outlook
on this subject. Similarly, this preoccupation has precluded, until now, a
full examination of the implications Kennedy’s Algeria speech has for an
understanding of US foreign policy at this time. The more appropriate way
of describing Kennedy’s speech, therefore, is that the speech was motivated
by both political and foreign policy concerns. While politics increasingly
dominated Kennedy’s life as the 1960 presidential race drew closer, he also
believed it imperative to America’s national interest and to that of France to
speak out against its colonial practices in Algeria at this time.

THE IMPORTANCE OF KENNEDY’S SPEECH

The fact that Kennedy’s speech expressed his beliefs so thoughtfully and so
thoroughly suggests the importance he attached to it. Truly, he never spoke on
the subject of colonialism again with such command and eloquence. Further,
it was his first major foreign policy address following his appointment to
the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in January 1957. The speech, titled
“Imperialism—The Enemy of Freedom,” has an abiding quality, though
the issues it addresses have long since been settled. In speaking on Algeria,
Kennedy was dealing with an extremely controversial situation involving one
of the longest and deadliest colonial wars ever fought. The Algerian conflict
dominated the political and social affairs of France for eight years. France
was a principal NATO ally of the United States and keystone of the West’s
opposition to the Soviet Union in Europe. The Algerian conflict, over time,
became a major contextual element of the development of Third World con-
sciousness. Accordingly, policymakers in most European countries paid close
attention to the speech as did many Third World leaders throughout Africa
and Asia. These Third World leaders were buoyed by Kennedy’s words and
 Introduction 3

the position he took in the speech, believing that America might return to its
anticolonial tradition and that this would have positive implications for their
own independence. Moreover, Kennedy took pains to widely advertise his
speech on Capitol Hill and to the domestic and international press so as to
attract maximum attention.
It is an understatement to say that this speech deserves our attention now
as much as it deserved the controversy it caused in America and Europe at
the time he spoke. Admittedly, this address will always be overshadowed by
other Kennedy speeches such as his “Farewell to the Massachusetts State
Legislature” on January 9, 1961, in which he invoked the spirit of John
Winthrop’s “City Upon a Hill,” or the unconditional support he expressed
for the people of West Germany in his rousing “Ich bin ein Berliner” speech
at Berlin’s City Hall on June 26, 1963. His inaugural address on January 20,
1961 is regarded as one of the nation’s best, and his commencement speech
dealing with arms control, delivered at American University on June 10,
1963, remains in many ways unsurpassed on that subject.
It is true that Kennedy’s speech did not change America’s policies on
Algeria or other colonial issues. He did not expect that it would. It was not a
watershed speech such as that given by Senator Arthur Vandenberg (R-MI) on
January 10, 1945, breaking with the Republican Party’s longstanding isola-
tionism and providing needed support for a truly bipartisan post-World War II
foreign policy. (Vandenberg himself said that he addressed the US Senate “in
the spirit of anxious humility” to put that body on notice that “there are criti-
cal moments in the life of every nation which call for . . . the most courageous
thinking of which we are capable. We confront such a moment now”).5 Much
like President Franklin Roosevelt’s first inaugural address given at the US
Capitol on March 4, 1933, in which he counselled against all forms of fear,
including “fear itself,”6 during one of the darkest moments of the Depression,
both speeches succeeded in summoning a different temperament in the nation
that, in the case of Vandenberg’s speech, paved the way for the Truman
Doctrine (March 1947) and the Marshall Plan (April 1948) and in the case
of Roosevelt, the New Deal. Rather, Kennedy’s speech more resembles that
of the declaration of conscience that Senator Margaret Chase Smith (R-ME)
delivered in the US Senate on June 1, 1950, denouncing the fear monger-
ing of fellow Republican Joseph McCarthy (R-WI).7 Like Senator Smith,
Kennedy spoke from a sense of urgency. In the case of Algeria, the urgency
stemmed from Kennedy’s perception that the current policies on Algeria were
taking both the United States and the French down the same road that had
been traveled in Indochina—a road that ended in the disastrous French defeat
at Dienbienphu, Vietnam in May 1954.
The fact that Kennedy’s speech did not change US policy toward Algeria,
however, should not be the only standard by which it is judged. Other reasons
4 Introduction

argue for its relevance. In fact, its importance is threefold. First, it reflects the
maturing of Kennedy’s thinking about American foreign policy at this time.
In fact, Kennedy’s Algeria speech in July 1957, his Senate speech on Poland
and Eastern Europe in August 1957, and his October 1957 Foreign Affairs
article titled “A Democrat Looks at Foreign Policy” (all separated by only
three months) taken together fully convey the essence of Kennedy’s emerg-
ing worldview. All of these show the hand of Frederick L. Holborn, a young
Harvard teaching assistant working in Kennedy’s office at this time. Holborn
largely researched and wrote the Algeria speech, and it would not be saying
too much to state that Holborn greatly helped to facilitate the development
of Kennedy’s foreign policy outlook. This author was fortunate to speak
with Holborn, then a professor at the Johns Hopkins University School of
Advanced International Studies, before his death in 2005.8 More will be said
about Holborn and Kennedy’s foreign policy outlook in chapter 1.
Second, Kennedy’s speech represented a serious challenge to US policy
regarding the Algerian conflict and the nation’s policies on colonialism in
general. It was rare that anyone had confronted the status quo in this area, and
Kennedy should be given credit for boldly taking on this issue since more dis-
cussion of America’s policies toward the emerging nations in Asia and Africa
was sorely needed. Moreover, Kennedy’s speech involved an important
critique of the Eisenhower-Dulles approach to world politics—one of many
he would offer in the years leading up to the 1960 election. While Kennedy
made no other major speeches on Algeria, he continued to raise objections to
the colonialism of the nation’s European allies, both because of moral reasons
but also because he felt it jeopardized America’s own national interests.
The third reason accounting for the importance of Kennedy’s Algeria
speech was its handling of a major dilemma over colonialism that bedeviled
American foreign policy throughout the Truman and Eisenhower administra-
tions. Vernon McKay indicates that, as the Cold War with the Soviet bloc
began to seriously concern American leaders, they became increasingly con-
flicted about how the United States should respond to the forces of national-
ism then sweeping Africa and Asia and the desires of the emerging nations in
these regions for independence. This quandary “emerged at once as the major
preoccupation of American policy.”9 McKay elaborates:

This dilemma was the conflict between our interest in supporting the principle
of self-determination and our need for a strong NATO alliance. The essence of
the problem was quite simple: we needed friends in both Europe and Africa
[and Asia], and whatever we did to please one group angered the other. For this
reason, all American policy statements from 1950 to 1958 contained certain
paragraphs to placate Europeans and others to appeal to Africans.10
 Introduction 5

More will be said about this dilemma in chapter 1. In chapter 7, we will con-
sider Kennedy’s handling of it in his Algeria speech and other statements on
colonialism.

CONTEXT AND CONTENT

“Politics are vulgar when they are not liberalized by history,” wrote Sir John
Seeley, “and history fades into mere literature when it loses sight of its rela-
tions to practical politics.”11 Accordingly, this book will consider Kennedy’s
speech in its historical context—a context in which the remnants of European
colonialism in Asia and Africa became increasingly ill-suited to the dawning
of a new age.
To illustrate this period of profound change in global politics, consider
some of the events that were unfolding at the time of Kennedy’s speech. US
foreign policy, for example, was still dealing with the fallout of the Suez
crisis of the previous fall (October-November 1956). There were serious
questions whether NATO would fully recover from having three key alli-
ance members—Britain, France, and the United States—pitted against one
another in this crisis that also saw the Soviet Union (implausible as this may
seem since it occurred during the Cold War) allied with the United States.
Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser, a Third World leader, basked in the
approval of the Arab world because of his “victory” at Suez. Domestically,
the United States was dealing with a serious social issue concerning the racial
integration of public schools which came to a head with troops being used to
avoid violence in Little Rock, Arkansas. This racial strife negatively impacted
America’s image abroad, particularly in the Third World. The United States
had begun to doubt its scientific and technological superiority over the
Russians as their launch of Sputnik made them first into space. The Soviets
had likewise tested successfully an Intercontinental Ballistic Missile (ICBM)
with grave implications for US national security.
Largely in response to these Soviet successes, the Gaither Commission
on Defense recommended increasing substantially the arsenal of US mis-
siles, thus escalating the superpower arms race. The Treaty of Rome was
signed establishing the European Common Market. In the Third World, the
West African nation of Ghana became independent and claimed a seat (like
so many other nations in Africa and Asia during this period) in the United
Nations and other international organizations. Thus, at a time when Africa
was breaking apart into several separate and independent nations, Europe
was seeking to unify its countries into one economic and, possibly, political
entity. Mao began his “let 1,000 flowers bloom” campaign, which ended in
an ideological purge of opponents of the Communist Party. The United States
6 Introduction

experienced its first combat death in Vietnam, the beginning of a tragic era
in which the nation continued to view the Third World primarily through the
militaristic perspective of the Cold War. In France, the government of Guy
Mollett was replaced in June 1957 (one month before Kennedy’s speech)
by that of Maurice Bourges-Maunoury, which itself was replaced after five
months by the government of Felix Gaillard. This instability alone made any
settlement of the war in Algeria almost impossible, as Kennedy would men-
tion in his speech. Algeria in 1957 was rocked by a general strike, further
demonstrating the widespread disapproval of continued French rule. The
French newspaper L’Express published major stories dealing with the French
military’s extensive use of torture and acts of terrorism in Algeria, further
alienating native Algerians in an escalating cycle of violence. This same year,
the French vetoed any suggestion of a role for the United Nations in Algeria
since they considered it purely a domestic matter.
This new age (which provided the context of Kennedy’s speech) would
be global in scope, and Europe would no longer be its center. Instead, the
spirit of nationalist self-determination would dominate all other consider-
ations in the emerging nations of Asia and Africa. It would only seem logical,
therefore, that figures such as Kennedy, who sought to lead this new age,
would speak out against the remaining anomalies, such as that exemplified
by colonialism. Kennedy’s Algeria speech represented a serious challenge to
the status quo policies of US leaders who allowed these anomalies to remain
unchallenged for fear that such challenges would disrupt relations between
the United States and European NATO allies.
Kennedy’s words held a particular resonance because they drew on
America’s deeply rooted anticolonial traditions. The United States was a
nation born in revolution and here, too, there was an inevitable logic to the
reality that the majority of Americans would support the nationalist struggles
in Asia and Africa. In fact, many encouraged—even demanded—that the
United States lead the “world revolution”12 that was transforming these areas,
principally in the name of self-determination. This clearly was Kennedy’s
view. He unmistakably calls for the United States to champion the political
and economic aspirations of nations in the Third World. Consider excerpts
from Kennedy’s speech in Washington, DC, in January 1960 titled “The
Global Challenge”:

If the title deeds of history applied, it is we, the American people who should
be marching at the head of the world-wide revolution, counseling it, helping it
to come to a healthy fruition. . . . Yet we have allowed the Communists to evict
us from our rightful estate at the head of this world-wide revolution. We have
been made to appear the defenders of the status quo, while the Communists
 Introduction 7

have portrayed themselves as the vanguard force, pointing the way to a better,
brighter, and braver order of life.13

Kennedy’s Algeria speech, therefore, represents a counterpoint to existing

policies—an alternative to the bipolar rigidities of the Cold War. This alter-
native might have allowed the nation to achieve a greater versatility in its
foreign policy and diplomatic practices, as well as a reconciliation between
its competing anticommunist and anticolonialist propensities. Attaining this
reconciliation often proved difficult for US policymakers in the post-World
War II period. By examining the speech, however, students and policymakers
of American foreign policy may come to see that alternatives existed for US
policies on colonialism and question why they were not considered.
It is important, therefore, to understand Kennedy’s speech as both content
and context. Such an understanding is invaluable in reading the speech and
likewise appreciating its historical significance. The content of the speech
and its importance to American diplomatic history has been mentioned
and will be fully discussed in the pages that follow. Not to be overlooked,
however, is the fact that Kennedy’s speech provides a context in which to
further consider America’s colonial policies. His speech demonstrated that
viable alternatives existed to the stalemated foreign policy that American
leaders were convinced they had no choice but to follow. Such an historical
context makes reading about the events surrounding Kennedy’s speech more
intelligible because it furnishes us with an understanding of the entire range
of factors and personalities that both impacted Kennedy’s speech and were
affected by it. This is a role that any work of history, including this book of
American diplomatic history, seeks to have. The impact of providing the
reader with both the details of the event itself, as well as their significance
can be incalculable. George F. Kennan, American statesman and author of the
Containment doctrine, emphasizes the importance that works of history can
have for American leaders:

If we, the scholars, with our patient and unsensational labors, can help statesmen
to understand . . . not only the dangers we face and the responsibility they bear
for overcoming these dangers but also the constructive and hopeful possibilities
that lie there to be opened up by wiser, more restrained, and more realistic poli-
cies . . . we will be richly repaid for our dedication and our persistence, for we
will then have the satisfaction of knowing that scholarship, the highest work of
the mind, has served, as it should, the highest interests of civilization.14

Nor is it naïve to believe that Kennedy’s speech could have played this role
of content and context. It would have been far better if American leaders had
8 Introduction

considered other approaches to the nation’s policy on colonial issues rather

than relying, almost exclusively, on the prevailing Cold War mindset.

THE PRIMACY OF FOREIGN POLICY

The reader will benefit throughout this work in knowing of Kennedy’s endur-
ing interest in American foreign policy. This point is obviously relevant to
understanding his Algeria speech. Equally important, it accounts for his very
involvement in government where the power resides to shape policies that
affect every aspect of America’s dealings with the world. Indeed, Kennedy’s
interest in foreign policy was always a preoccupation and grew to be almost
all-consuming after he became president.
Kennedy educated himself in foreign affairs by years of study, travel, and
conversations with leaders in other countries. He was an avid reader of his-
tory and political biography. History was his major area of study as a Harvard
undergraduate, and his historical interests were evident to those meeting him
for the first time. William Carelton, a political scientist and friend of the
Kennedy family, observed that “it was clear to me that John had a far bet-
ter historical and political mind than his father or elder brother, indeed that
John’s capacity for seeing current events in historical perspective and project-
ing historical trends into the future was unusual.”15
Kennedy believed that foreign policy issues were paramount in the nuclear
age. “Foreign policy today,” Kennedy stated in a 1951 speech, “irrespec-
tive of what we might wish, in its impact on our daily lives, overshadows
everything else. Expenditures, taxation, domestic prosperity, the extent of
social services—all hinge on the basic issue of war and peace.”16 French
diplomat and Minister of Foreign Affairs (1958–1968) Jacques-Maurice
Couve de Murville stated emphatically that Kennedy’s interest in interna-
tional politics was overriding. He said Kennedy was attuned to US-French
relations “beginning of course with the question that, at that time, was the
most important . . . decolonization.”17 Theodore Sorensen, Kennedy’s coun-
selor and speechwriter, stated that “foreign affairs had always interested him
far more than domestic. They occupied far more of his time and energy as
President.”18 Roger Hilsman, another Kennedy aide, wrote in a similar vein:
“Certainly, he thought foreign affairs were central to his concern. He used
to say that a domestic failure hurt the country, but a failure in foreign affairs
could kill it.”19 It is clear also that in choosing Dean Rusk—described as an
“ideal staff person”20—to be his secretary of state, Kennedy was signaling
that he meant to run foreign policy from the White House. According to
Hirsh Freed, a Kennedy associate, Kennedy was “never really . . . interested
in local politics in the city of Boston or in the state of Massachusetts. . . . His
 Introduction 9

interest lay in international politics, the topic that engaged most of his seri-
ous talk.”21 This was true even in his initial race for Congress in 1946. From
his earliest years in the Senate, he made it a priority to become a member of
the Foreign Relations Committee. Senate Majority Leader Lyndon Johnson
(D-TX) had blocked this appointment and only agreed to it in January 1957,
after Kennedy’s ascent in the Democratic Party. Historian James MacGregor
Burns underscores this point.

There was no committee assignment that Kennedy prized more

highly. . . . Kennedy wanted Foreign Relations not only for its obvious political
advantages, but because he believed he belonged there. . . . His youthful experi-
ences at his father’s embassy, his interest in foreign policy while in the House,
and his extensive travels equipped him, he felt to shape foreign policy with other
committee members like Fulbright, John Sparkman, and Morse.22

In a similar vein, Dallek provides insight into Kennedy’s determination to pair

his political calculations with his policy interests: “If he was going to run for
president, establishing himself as a Senate leader on foreign affairs seemed
like an essential prerequisite.”23Against this background, it is understandable
why Kennedy would wade into the Algerian controversy. The speech played
a significant role in helping to establish him as an outspoken and authoritative
voice in foreign policy circles.
Kennedy’s European diaries from the summer of 1945 as well as his cov-
erage of the San Francisco conference establishing the United Nations as a
journalist for the Chicago Herald-American in the same year testify to this
abiding concern.24 “Joining a debate on vital matters of national security
appealed to him,” Dallek notes, “as the highest duty of a senator.”25
It is important at this juncture to mention the role that Kennedy’s demo-
cratic beliefs had in shaping his foreign policy outlook. In a thought-provoking
article in the New York Times Magazine of August 8, 1954, titled “Foreign
Policy Is the People’s Business,” Kennedy argued forcefully for a greater
role for American public opinion in the policymaking process. Interestingly,
he also called attention to the significance of French public opinion in his
Algeria speech and how it was “slowly moving toward recognition of the
facts of life that Algeria is not realistically integral to France.”26 These views
stood in marked contrast to those of the Eisenhower-Dulles approach in
which “the average layman—or Congressman—is deemed unable to compre-
hend the mystic intricacies and intrigues of foreign affairs.”27 It was, in part,
these democratic beliefs that Kennedy cited for making his Algeria speech.
He viewed his speech in the context of the “advice and consent” powers
in foreign policy delegated to the Senate by Article II, Section 2 of the US
Constitution.28 In this capacity, the Senate was both a conduit for reflecting
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"What doest thou here, Nasrany?" he demanded.
"I have done it, Ibn Jad!" muttered Stimbol.
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"Slain Tarzan of the Apes."
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Come! Didst hear what the Nasrany sayeth?"
Hirfa and Ateja rushed into the mukaad.
"Didst hear him?" repeated Ibn Jad. "He hath slain my good friend
the great sheykh of the Jungle. Motlog! Fahd! Haste!" His voice had
been rising until now he was screaming at the top of his lungs and
'Aarab were streaming toward his beyt from all directions.
Stimbol, stunned by what he had done, dumb from surprise and
terror at the unexpected attitude of Ibn Jad, crouched speechless in
the center of the mukaad.
"Seize him!" cried the sheik to the first man that arrived. "He hath
slain Tarzan of the Apes, our great friend, who was to preserve us
and lead us from this land of dangers. Now all wilt be our enemies.
The friends of Tarzan wilt fall upon us and slay us. Allah, bear
witness that I be free from guilt in this matter and let Thy wrath and
the wrath of the friends of Tarzan fall upon this guilty man!"
By this time the entire population of the menzil was gathered in front
of the sheik's beyt, and if they were surprised by his protestations of
sudden affection for Tarzan they gave no evidence of it.
"Take him away!" commanded Ibn Jad. "In the morning we shall
gather and decide what we must do."
They dragged the terrified Stimbol to Fahd's beyt, where they bound
him hand and foot and left him for Fahd to guard. When they had
gone the Beduin leaned low over Stimbol, and whispered in his ear.
"Didst really slay the jungle sheykh?" he demanded.
"Ibn Jad forced me to do so and now he turns against me,"
whimpered Stimbol.
"And tomorrow he will have you killed so that he may tell the friends
of Tarzan that he hath punished the slayer of Tarzan," said Fahd.
"Save me, Fahd!" begged Stimbol. "Save me and I will give you
twenty million francs—I swear it! Once I am safe in the nearest
European colony I will get the money for you. Think of it, Fahd—
twenty million francs!"
"I am thinking of it, Nasrany," replied the Beduin, "and I think that
thou liest. There be not that much money in the world!"
"I swear that I have ten times that amount. If I have lied to you you
may kill me. Save me! Save me!"
"Twenty million francs!" murmured Fahd. "Perchance he does not lie!
Listen, Nasrany. I do not know that I can save thee, but I shall try,
and if I succeed and thou forgettest the twenty million francs I shall
kill thee if I have to follow thee across the world—dost understand?"
Ibn Jad called two ignorant slaves to him and commanded them to
go to the beyt that had been Zeyd's and carry Tarzan's body to the
edge of the menzil where they were to dig a grave and bury it.
With paper lanterns they went to the beyt of death and wrapping the
dead man in the old burnous that already covered him they carried
him across the menzil and laid him down while they dug a shallow
grave; and so, beneath a forest giant in the land that he loved the
grave of Tarzan of the Apes was made.
Roughly the slaves rolled the corpse into the hole they had made,
shovelled the dirt upon it and left it in its lonely, unmarked tomb.
Early the next morning Ibn Jad called about him the elders of the
tribe, and when they were gathered it was noted that Tollog was
missing, and though a search was made he could not be found.
Fahd suggested that he had gone forth early to hunt.
Ibn Jad explained to them that if they were to escape the wrath of
the friends of Tarzan they must take immediate steps to disprove
their responsibility for the slaying of the ape-man and that they might
only do this and express their good faith by punishing the murderer.
It was not difficult to persuade them to take the life of a Christian and
there was only one that demurred. This was Fahd.
"There are two reasons, Ibn Jad, why we should not take the life of
this Nasrany," he said.
"By Ullah, there never be any reason why a true believer should not
take the life of a Nasrany!" cried one of the old men.
"Listen," admonished Fahd, "to what I have in mind and then I am
sure that you will agree that I am right."
"Speak, Fahd," said Ibn Jad.
"This Nasrany is a rich and powerful man in his own beled. If it be
possible to spare his life he will command a great ransom—dead he
is worth nothing to us. If by chance, the friends of Tarzan do not
learn of his death before we are safely out of this accursed land it will
have profited us naught to have killed Stimbol and, billah, if we kill
him now they may not believe us when we say that he slew Tarzan
and we took his life in punishment.
"But if we keep him alive until we are met with the friends of Tarzan,
should it so befall that they overtake us, then we may say that we did
hold him prisoner that Tarzan's own people might mete out their
vengeance to him, which would suit them better."
"Thy words are not without wisdom," admitted Ibn Jad, "but suppose
the Nasrany spoke lies concerning us and said that it was we who
slew Tarzan? Wouldst they not believe him above us?"
"That be easily prevented," said the old man who had spoken before.
"Let us cut his tongue out forthwith that he may not bear false
witness against us."
"Wellah, thou hast it!" exclaimed Ibn Jad.
"Billah, nay!" cried Fahd. "The better we treat him the larger will be
the reward that he will pay us."
"We can wait until the last moment," said Ibn Jad, "and we see that
we are to lose him and our reward, then may we cut out his tongue."
Thus the fate of Wilbur Stimbol was left to the gods, and Ibn Jad,
temporarily freed from the menace of Tarzan, turned his attention
once more to his plans for entering the valley. With a strong party he
went in person and sought a palaver with the Galla chief.
As he approached the village of Batando he passed through the
camps of thousands of Galla warriors and realized fully what he had
previously sensed but vaguely—that his position was most
precarious and that with the best grace possible he must agree to
whatever terms the old chief might propose.
Batando received him graciously enough, though with all the majesty
of a powerful monarch, and assured him that on the following day he
would escort him to the entrance to the valley, but that first he must
deliver to Batando all the Galla slaves that were with his party.
"But that will leave us without carriers or servants and will greatly
weaken the strength of my party," cried Ibn Jad.
Batando but shrugged his black shoulders.
"Let them remain with us until we have returned from the valley,"
implored the sheik.
"No Galla man may accompany you," said Batando with finality.
Early the next morning the tent of Ibn Jad was struck in signal that all
were to prepare for the rahla, and entirely surrounded by Galla
warriors they started toward the rugged mountains where lay the
entrance to the valley of Ibn Jad's dreams.
Fejjuan and the other Galla slaves that the 'Aarab had brought with
them from beled el-Guad marched with their own people, happy in
their new-found freedom. Stimbol, friendless, fearful, utterly cowed,
trudged wearily along under guard of two young Beduins, his mind
constantly reverting to the horror of the murdered man lying in his
lonely grave behind them.
Winding steadily upward along what at times appeared to be an
ancient trail and again no trail at all, the 'Aarab and their escort
climbed higher and higher into the rugged mountains that rim the
Valley of the Sepulcher upon the north. At the close of the second
day, after they had made camp beside a rocky mountain brook,
Batando came to Ibn Jad and pointed to the entrance to a rocky side
ravine that branched from the main canyon directly opposite the
camp.
"There," he said, "lies the trail into the valley. Here we leave you and
return to our villages. Upon the morrow we go."
When the sun rose the following morning Ibn Jad discovered that the
Gallas had departed during the night, but he did not know it was
because of the terror they felt for the mysterious inhabitants of the
mysterious valley from which no Galla ever had returned.
That day Ibn Jad spent in making a secure camp in which to leave
the women and children until the warriors had returned from their
adventure in the valley or had discovered that they might safely fetch
their women, and the next morning, leaving a few old men and boys
to protect the camp, he set forth with those who were accounted the
fighting men among them, and presently the watchers in the camp
saw the last of them disappear in the rocky ravine that lay opposite
the menzil.

CHAPTER XVI

The Great Tourney

King Bohun with many knights and squires and serving men had
ridden down from his castle above the City of the Sepulcher two
days ago to make his way across the valley to the field before the
city of Nimmr for the Great Tourney that is held once each year,
commencing upon the first Sunday in Lent.
Gay pennons fluttered from a thousand lance tips and gay with color
were the housings of the richly caparisoned chargers that proudly
bore the Knights of the Sepulcher upon whose backs red crosses
were emblazoned to denote that they had completed the pilgrimage
to the Holy Land and were returning to home and England.
Their bassinets, unlike those of the Knights of Nimmr, were covered
with bullock hide, and the devices upon their bucklers differed, and
their colors. But for these and the crosses upon their backs they
might have been Gobred's own good knights and true.
Sturdy sumpter beasts, almost as richly trapped as the knight's
steeds, bore the marquees and tilts that were to house the knights
during the tourney, as well as their personal belongings, their extra
arms and their provisions for the three days of the tourney; for
custom, over seven centuries old, forbade the Knights of Nimmr and
the Knights of the Sepulcher breaking bread together.
The Great Tourney was merely a truce during which they carried on
their ancient warfare under special rules which transformed it into a
gorgeous pageant and an exhibition of martial prowess which
noncombatants might witness in comfort and with impunity. It did not
permit friendly intercourse between the two factions as this was not
compatible with the seriousness of the event, in which knights of
both sides often were killed, or the spirit in which the grand prize was
awarded.
This prize as much as any other factor had kept open the breach of
seven and a half centuries' duration that separated the Fronters from
the Backers, for it consisted of five maidens whom the winners took
back with them to their own city and who were never again seen by
their friends or relatives.
Though the sorrow was mitigated by the honorable treatment that
custom and the laws of knighthood decreed should be accorded
these unfortunate maidens, it was still bitter because attached to it
was the sting of defeat.
Following the tournament the maidens became the especial charges
of Gobred or Bohun, dependent of course upon whether the honors
of the tourney had fallen to the Fronters or the Backers, and in due
course were given in honorable marriage to knights of the victorious
party.
The genesis of the custom, which was now fully seven centuries old,
doubtless lay in the wise desire of some ancient Gobred or Bohun to
maintain the stock of both factions strong and virile by the regular
infusion of new blood, as well, perhaps, as to prevent the inhabitants
of the two cities from drifting too far apart in manners, customs and
speech.
Many a happy wife of Nimmr had been born in the City of the
Sepulcher and seldom was it that the girls themselves repined for
long. It was considered an honor to be chosen and there were
always many more who volunteered than the requisite number of five
that annually made the sacrifice.
The five who constituted the prize offered by the City of the
Sepulcher this year rode on white palfreys and were attended by a
guard of honor in silver mail. The girls, selected for their beauty to
thus honor the city of their birth, were gorgeously attired and
weighed down with ornaments of gold and silver and precious
stones.
Upon the plain before the city of Nimmr preparations for the tourney
had been in progress for many days. The lists were being dragged
and rolled with heavy wooden rollers, the ancient stands of stone
from which the spectators viewed the spectacle were undergoing
their annual repairs and cleansing, a frame superstructure was being
raised to support the canopies that would shade the choice seats
reserved for the nobility, and staffs for a thousand pennons had been
set around the outer margin of the lists—these and a hundred other
things were occupying a company of workmen; and in the walled city
and in the castle that stood above it the hammers of armorers and
smiths rang far into the night forging iron shoes and mail and lance
tips.
Blake had been assured that he was to have a part in the Great
Tourney and was as keen for it as he had been for the big game of
the season during his football days at college. He had been entered
in two sword contests—one in which five Knights of Nimmr met five
Knights of the Sepulcher and another in which he was pitted against
a single antagonist, but his only contest with the lance was to be in
the grand finale when a hundred Fronters faced a hundred Backers,
since, whereas, before his encounter with Malud he had been
considered hopeless with sword and buckler now Prince Gobred
looked to him to win many points with these, his lance work being
held but mediocre.
King Bohun and his followers were camped in a grove of oaks about
a mile north of the lists, nor did the laws governing the Great Tourney
permit them to come nearer until the hour appointed for their
entrance upon the first day of the spectacle.
Blake, in preparing for the tourney, had followed the custom adopted
by many of the knights of wearing distinctive armor and trapping his
charger similarly. His chain mail was all of solid black, relieved only
by the leopard skin of his bassinet and the blue and silver pennon
upon his lance. The housings of his mount were of black, edged with
silver and blue, and there were, of course, the prescribed red
crosses upon his breast and upon his horse housings.
As he came from his quarters upon the opening morning of the
tourney, followed by Edward bearing his lance and buckler, he
appeared a somber figure among the resplendently caparisoned
knights and the gorgeously dressed women that were gathered in
the great court awaiting the word to mount their horses which were
being held in the north ballium by the grooms.
That his black mail was distinctive was evidenced by the attention he
immediately attracted, and that he had quickly become popular
among the knights and ladies of Nimmr was equally apparent by the
manner in which they clustered about him, but opinion was divided in
the matter of his costume, some holding that it was too dismal and
depressing.
Guinalda was there but she remained seated upon a bench where
she was conversing with one of the maidens that had been chosen
as Nimmr's prize. Blake quickly disengaged himself from those who
had crowded about him and crossed the court to where Guinalda
sat. At his approach the princess looked up and inclined her head
slightly in recognition of his bow and then she resumed her
conversation with the maiden.
The rebuff was too obvious to permit of misunderstanding, but Blake
was not satisfied to accept it and go his way without an explanation.
He could scarce believe, however, that the princess was still vexed
merely because he had intimated that he had believed that she took
a greater interest in him than she had admitted. There must be some
other reason.
He did not turn and walk away, then, although she continued to
ignore him, but stood quietly before her waiting patiently until she
should again notice him.
Presently he noted that she was becoming nervous as was also the
maiden with whom she spoke. There were lapses in their
conversation; one of Guinalda's feet was tapping the flagging
irritably; a slow flush was creeping upward into her cheeks. The
maiden fidgeted, she plucked at the ends of the wimple that lay
about her shoulders, she smoothed the rich cyclas of her mantle and
finally she arose and bowing before the princess asked if she might
go and bid farewell to her mother.
Guinalda bade her begone and then, alone with Blake and no longer
able to ignore him, nor caring to, she turned angrily upon him.
"I was right!" she snapped. "Thou beest a forward boor. Why
standeth thou thus staring at me when I have made it plain that I
wouldst not be annoyed by thee? Go!"
"Because——" Blake hesitated, "because I love you."
"Sirrah!" cried Guinalda, springing to her feet. "How darest thou!"
"I would dare anything for you, my princess," replied Blake, "because
I love you."
Guinalda looked straight at him for a moment in silence, then her
short upper lip curved in a contemptuous sneer.
"Thou liest!" she said. "I have heard what thou hast said concerning
me!" and without waiting for a reply she brushed past him and
walked away.
Blake hurried after her. "What have I said about you?" he demanded.
"I have said nothing that I would not repeat before all Nimmr. Not
even have I presumed to tell my best friend, Sir Richard, that I love
you. Not other ears than yours have heard that."
"I have heard differently," said Guinalda, haughtily, "and I care not to
discuss the matter further."
"But——" commenced Blake, but at that instant a trumpet sounded
from the north gate leading into the ballium. It was the signal for the
knights to mount. Guinalda's page came running to her to summon
her to her father's side. Sir Richard appeared and seized Blake by
the arm.
"Come, James!" he cried. "We should have been mounted before
now for we ride in the forerank of the knights today." And so Blake
was dragged away from the princess before he could obtain an
explanation of her, to him, inexplicable attitude.
The north ballium presented a scene of color and activity, crowded
as it was with knights and ladies, pages, squires, grooms, men-at-
arms and horses, nor would it accommodate them all, so that the
overflow stretched into the east and south balliums and even through
the great east gate out upon the road that leads down into the valley.
For half an hour something very like chaos reigned about the castle
of the Prince of Nimmr, but eventually perspiring marshals and
shouting heralds whipped the cortege into shape as it took its slow
and imposing way down the winding mountain road toward the lists.
First rode the marshals and heralds and behind them a score of
trumpeters; then came Prince Gobred, riding alone, and following
was a great company of knights, their colored pennons streaming in
the wind. They rode just before the ladies and behind the ladies was
another company of knights, while in the rear marched company
after company of men-at-arms, some armed with cross bows, others
with pikes and still others again with battle-axes of huge proportions.
Perhaps a hundred knights and men-at-arms all told were left behind
to guard the castle and the entrance to the Valley of the Sepulcher,
but these would be relieved to witness the second and third days'
exercises.
As the Knights of Nimmr wound down to the lists, the Knights of the
Sepulcher moved out from their camp among the oaks, and the
marshals of the two parties timed their approach so that both entered
the lists at the same time.
The ladies of Nimmr dropped out of the procession and took their
places in the stand; the five maidens of Nimmr and the five from the
City of the Sepulcher were escorted to a dais at one end of the lists,
after which the knights lined up in solid ranks, the Knights of Nimmr
upon the south side of the lists, the Knights of the Sepulcher upon
the north.
Gobred and Bohun rode forward and met in the center of the field,
where, in measured and imposing tones, Bohun delivered the
ancient challenge prescribed by custom and the laws of the Great
Tourney and handed Gobred the gage, the acceptance of which
constituted an acceptance of the challenge and marked the official
opening of the tourney.
As Gobred and Bohun reined about and faced their own knights
these rode out of the lists, those who were not to take part in the
encounters of the day seeking places in the stands after turning their
chargers over to grooms, while those who were to participate formed
again to ride once around the lists, for the double purpose of
indicating to their opponents and the spectators the entrants for that
day and of viewing the prizes offered by their opponents.
In addition to the maidens there were many minor prizes consisting
of jeweled ornaments, suits of mail, lances, swords, bucklers,
splendid steeds and the many articles that were valued by knights or
that might find favor in the eyes of their ladies.
The Knights of the Sepulcher paraded first, with Bohun at their head,
and it was noticeable that the eyes of the king were often upon the
women in the stands as he rode past. Bohun was a young man,
having but just ascended the throne following the recent death of his
father. He was arrogant and tyrannical and it had been common
knowledge in Nimmr that for years he had been at the head of a
faction that was strong for war with Nimmr, that the city might be
reduced and the entire Valley of the Sepulcher brought under the
rule of the Bohuns.
His charger prancing, his colors flying, his great company of knights
at his back, King Bohun rode along the stands reserved for the
people of Nimmr, and when he came to the central loge in which sat
Prince Gobred with the Princess Brynilda and Princess Guinalda, his
eyes fell upon the face of the daughter of Gobred.
Bohun reined in his charger and stared straight into the face of
Guinalda. Gobred flushed angrily, for Bohun's act was a breach of
courtesy, and half rose from his seat, but at that moment Bohun,
bowing low across his mount's withers, moved on, followed by his
knights.
That day the honors went to the Knights of the Sepulcher, for they
scored two hundred and twenty-seven points against one hundred
and six that the Knights of Nimmr were able to procure.
Upon the second day the tourney opened with the riding past of the
entrants who, ordinarily, were conducted by a herald, but to the
surprise of all, Bohun again led his knights past the stands and again
he paused and looked full at the Princess Guinalda.
This day the Knights of Nimmr fared a little better, being for the day
but seven points behind their opponents, though the score for the
two days stood two hundred and sixty-nine to three hundred and
ninety-seven in favor of the Knights of the Sepulcher.
So the third day opened with the knights from the north boasting
what seemed an insuperable lead of one hundred and twenty-eight
points and the Knights of Nimmr spurred to greater action by the
knowledge that to win the tourney they must score two hundred and
thirty-two of the remaining three hundred and thirty-four points.
Once again, contrary to age old custom, Bohun led his entrants
about the lists as they paraded before the opening encounter, and
once again he drew rein before the loge of Gobred and his eyes
rested upon the beautiful face of Guinalda for an instant before he
addressed her sire.
"Prince Gobred of Nimmr," he said in his haughty and arrogant voice,
"as ye well know my valiant sir knights have bested thine by more
than six score points and the Great Tourney be as good as ours
already. Yet we would make thee a proposition."
"Speak Bohun! The Great Tourney is yet far from won, but an' ye
have any proposition that an honorable prince may consider thou
hast my assurance that 'twill be given consideration."
"Thy five maidens are as good as ours," said Bohun, "but give me
thy daughter to be queen of the Valley of the Sepulcher and I will
grant thee the tourney."
Gobred went white with anger, but when he replied his voice was low
and even for he was master of his own emotions, as befitted a
princely man.
"Sir Bohun," he said, refusing to accord to his enemy the title of king,
"thy words are an offense in the ears of honorable men, implying as
they do that the daughter of a Gobred be for sale and that the honor
of the knighthood of Nimmr may be bartered for.
"Get thee hence to thine own side of the lists before I set serfs upon
ye to drive ye there with staves."
"So that be thine answer, eh?" shouted Bohun. "Then know ye that I
shall take the five maidens by the rules of the Great Tourney and thy
daughter by force of arms!" With this threat delivered he wheeled his
steed and spurred away.
Word of Bohun's proposition and his rebuff spread like wild fire
throughout the ranks of the Knights of Nimmr so that those who were
to contend this last day of the tourney were keyed to the highest
pitch of derring do in the defence of the honor of Nimmr and the
protection of the Princess Guinalda.
The great lead attained by the Knights of the Sepulcher during the
first two days was but an added incentive to greater effort, provoking
them, as a spur, to the utmost limits of daring and exertion. There
was no need that their marshals should exhort them. The youth and
chivalry of Nimmr had heard the challenge and would answer it in
the lists!
Blake's sword and buckler encounter with a Knight of the Sepulcher
was scheduled for the first event of the day. When the lists were
cleared he rode in to a fanfare of trumpets, moving parallel with the
south stands while his adversary rode along the front of the north
stands, the latter halting before the loge of Bohun as Blake drew rein
in front of that of Gobred, where he raised the hilt of his sword to his
lips to the Prince, though his eyes were upon Guinalda.
"Conduct thyself as a true knight this day to the glory and honor of
Nimmr," charged Gobred, "and may the blessings of Our Lord Jesus
be upon thee and thy sword, our well beloved Sir James!"
"To the glory and honor of Nimmr I pledge my sword and my life!"
should have been Blake's reply according to the usages of the Great
Tourney.
"To the glory and honor of Nimmr and to the protection of my
Princess I pledge my sword and my life!" is what he said, and it was
evident from the expression on Gobred's face that he was not
displeased, while the look of haughty disdain which had been upon
Guinalda's face softened.
Slowly she arose and tearing a ribbon from her gown stepped to the
front of the loge. "Receive this favor from thy lady, sir knight," she
said, "bearing it with honor and to victory in thy encounter."
Blake reined closed to the rail of the loge and bent low while
Guinalda pinned the ribbon upon his shoulder. His face was close to
hers; he sensed the intoxicating perfume of her hair; he felt her warm
breath upon his cheek.
"I love you," he whispered, so low that no other ears than hers could
hear.
"Thou art a boor," she replied in a voice as low as his. "It be for the
sake of the five maidens that I encourage ye with this favor."
Blake looked straight into her eyes. "I love you, Guinalda," he said,
"and—you love me!"
Before she could reply he had wheeled away, the trumpets had
sounded, and he was cantering slowly toward the end of the field
where the tilts of the Knights of Nimmr stood.
Edward, very much excited, was there and Sir Richard and Michel,
with a marshal, heralds, trumpeters, men-at-arms—a martial
company to urge him on with encouragement and advice.
Blake cast aside his buckler, nor was there any to reprove him now.
Instead they smiled proudly and knowingly, for had they not seen
him best Sir Malud without other defense than his horsemanship and
his sword?
The trumpets blared again. Blake turned and put spurs to his
charger. Straight down the center of the lists he rode. From the
opposite end came a Knight of the Sepulcher to meet him!
"Sir James! Sir James!" cried the spectators in the stands upon the
south side, while the north stands answered with the name of their
champion.
"Who is the black knight?" asked many a man in the north stands of
his neighbor.
"He hath no buckler!" cried some. "He be mad!" "Sir Guy wilt cleave
him open at the first pass!" "Sir Guy! Sir Guy!"

CHAPTER XVII

"The Saracens!"
Just as the second day of the Great Tourney had opened in the
Valley of the Sepulcher upon the plains below the city of Nimmr, a
band of swart men in soiled thobs and carrying long matchlocks
topped the summit of the pass upon the north side of the valley and
looked down upon the City of the Sepulcher and the castle of King
Bohun.
They had followed upward along what may once have been a trail,
but for so long a time had it been unused, or so infrequently had it
been used that it was scarce distinguishable from the surrounding
brush; but below them now Ibn Jad saw at a short distance a better
marked road and, beyond, what appeared to him a fortress. Beyond
that again he glimpsed the battlements of Bohun's castle.
What he saw in the foreground was the barbican guarding the
approach to the castle and the city, both of which were situated in
much the same relative position as were the barbican and castle
upon the south side of the valley where Prince Gobred guarded the
city of Nimmr and the valley beyond it against the daily expected
assault of the Saracens.
Seeking cover, Ibn Jad and his Beduins crept down toward the
barbican where an old knight and a few men-at-arms kept
perfunctory ward. Hiding in the mountain brush the 'Aarab saw two
strangely apparelled blacks hunting just outside the great gateway.
They were armed with cross bows and arrows and their prey was
rabbits. For years they had seen no stranger come down this ancient
road, and for years they had hunted between the gate and the
summit of the mountains, though farther than this they were not
permitted to wander. Nor had they any great desire to do so, for,
though they were descendants of Gallas who lived just beyond this
mountain top, they thought that they were Englishmen and that a
horde of Saracens awaited to annihilate them should they venture
too far afield.
Today they hunted as they had often hunted when they chanced to
be placed in the guard at the outer barbican. They moved silently
forward, warily awaiting the break of a rabbit. They did not see the
dark-faced men in the brush.
Ibn Jad saw that the great gateway was open and that the gate that
closed it raised and lowered vertically. It was raised now. Great was
the laxity of the old knight and the men-at-arms, but King Bohun was
away and there was none to reprove them.
Ibn Jad motioned those nearest him to follow and crept slowly closer
to the gateway.
What of the old knight and the other watchers? The former was
partaking of a late breakfast just within one of the great towers of the
barbican and the latter were taking advantage of the laxity of his
discipline to catch a few more winks of sleep as they stretched
beneath the shade of some trees within the ballium.
Ibn Jad won to within a few yards of the gateway and waited for the
others to reach his side. When they were all there he whispered to
them and then trotted on silent sandals toward the gate, his
matchlock ready in his hands. Behind him came his fellows. They
were all within the ballium before the men-at-arms were aware that
there was an enemy this side of Palestine.
With cross-bow and battle-axe the men-at-arms sprang to defend the
gate. Their cries of "The Saracens! The Saracens!" brought the old
sir knight and the hunters running toward the ballium.
Below, at the castle of King Bohun, the men at the gates and the
other retainers who had been left while Bohun sallied forth to the
Great Tourney heard strange noises from the direction of the outer
barbican. The shouts of men floated down to them and strange,
sharp sounds that were like thunder and yet unlike it. Such sounds
they had never heard before, nor any of their forbears. They rallied
at the outer castle gate and the knights with them consulted as to
what was best to be done.
Being brave knights there seemed but one thing open for them. If
those at the far outer barbican had been attacked they must hasten
to their defense. Summoning all but four of the knights and men-at-
arms at his disposal the marshal of the castle mounted and rode
forth toward the outer gate.
Half way there they were espied by Ibn Jad and his men who, having
overcome the poorly armed soldiers at the gate, were advancing
down the road toward the castle. At sight of these reinforcements Ibn
Jad hastened to secrete his followers and himself in the bushes that
lined the roadway. So it fell that the marshal rode by them and did
not see them and, when they had passed, Ibn Jad and his followers
came out of the bushes and continued down the winding mountain
road toward the castle of King Bohun.
The men at the castle gate, now fully upon the alert, stood ready with
the portcullis raised as the marshal instructed them, so that in the
event that those who had ridden out should be hard pressed upon
their return by an enemy at their rear they could still find sanctuary
within the ballium. The plan was, in such event, to lower the
portcullis behind the men of the Sepulcher and in the faces of the
pursuing Saracens, for that an enemy must be such was a forgone
conclusion—had not they and their ancestors waited for near seven
and a half centuries now for this momentarily expected assault?
They wondered if it really had come at last.
While they discussed the question Ibn Jad watched them from a
concealing clump of bushes a few yards away.
The wily Beduin knew the purpose of that portcullis and he was
trying to plan best how he might enter the enclosure beyond before it
could be dropped before his face. At last he found a plan and smiled.
He beckoned three men to come close and into their ears he
whispered that which he had in mind.
There were four men-at-arms ready to drop the portcullis at the
psychological moment and all four of them stood in plain sight of Ibn
Jad and the three that were beside him. Carefully, cautiously,
noiselessly the four 'Aarab raised their ancient matchlocks and took
careful aim.
"Now!" whispered Ibn Jad and four matchlocks belched forth flame
and black powder and slugs of lead.
The four men-at-arms dropped to the stone flagging and Ibn Jad and
all his followers raced forward and stood within the ballium of the
castle of King Bohun. Before them, across the ballium, was another
gate and a broad moat, but the drawbridge was lowered, the
portcullis raised and the gateway unguarded.
The marshal and his followers had ridden unhindered into the
ballium of the outer barbican and there they had found all its
defenders lying in their own blood, even to the little squire of the old
knight who should have watched the gate and did not.
One of the men-at-arms still lived and in his dying breath he gasped
the terrible truth. The Saracens had come at last!
"Where are they?" demanded the marshal.
"Didst thou not see them, sir?" asked the dying man. "They marched
down the road toward the castle."
"Impossible!" cried the marshal. "We didst but ride along that very
road and saw no one."
"They marched down toward the castle," gasped the man.
The marshal knit his brows. "Were there many?" he demanded.
"There are few," replied the man-at-arms. "It was but the advance
guard of the armies of the sultan."
Just then the volley that laid low the four warders at the castle gate
crashed upon the ears of the marshal and his men.
"'Ods blud!" he cried.
"They must have hid themselves in the bush as we passed,"
exclaimed a knight at the marshal's side, "for of a surety they be
there and we be here and there be but one road between."
"There be but four men at the castle gate," said the marshal, "and I
did bid them keep the 'cullis up til we returned. God pity me! I have
given over the Sepulcher to the Saracens. Slay me, Sir Morley!"
"Nay, man! We need every lance and sword and cross-bow that we
may command. This be no time to think of taking thy life when thou
canst give it to Our Lord Jesus in defense of His Sepulcher against
the infidels!"
"Thou art right, Morley," cried the marshal. "Remain you here, then,
with six men and hold this gate. I shall return with the others and
give battle at the castle!"
But when the marshal came again to the castle gate he found the
portcullis down and a dark-faced, bearded Saracen glaring at him
through the iron bars. The marshal at once ordered the cross-
bowmen to shoot the fellow down, but as they raised their weapons
to their shoulder there was a loud explosion that almost deafened
them and flame leaped from a strange thing that the Saracen held
against his shoulder and pointed at them. One of the cross-bowmen
screamed and lunged forward upon his face and the others turned
and fled.
They were brave men in the face of dangers that were natural and to
be expected, but in the presence of the supernatural, the weird, the
uncanny, they reacted as most men do, and what could have been
more weird than death leaping in flame and with a great noise
through space to strike their fellow down?
But Sir Bulland, the marshal, was a knight of the Sepulcher. He
might wish to run away fully as much as the simple and lowly men-
at-arms, but there was something that held him there that was more
potent than fear of death. It is called Honor.
Sir Bulland could not run away and so he sat there on his great
horse and challenged the Saracens to mortal combat; challenged
them to send their doughtiest sir knight to meet him and thus decide
who should hold the gate.
But the 'Aarab already held it. Furthermore they did not understand
him. In addition to all this they were without honor as Sir Bulland
knew it, and perhaps as any one other than a Beduin knows it, and
would but have laughed at his silly suggestion.
One thing they did know—two things they knew—that he was a
Nasrany and that he was unarmed. They did not count his great
lance and his sword as weapons, for he could not reach them with
either. So one of them took careful aim and shot Sir Bulland through
his chain mail where it covered his noble and chivalrous heart.
Ibn Jad had the run of the castle of King Bohun and he was sure that
he had discovered the fabled City of Nimmr that the sahar had told
him of. He herded together the women and children and the few men
that remained and held them under guard. For a while he was
minded to slay them, since they were but Nasrany, but he was so